


If You

by MadReisz



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bittersweet, Cussing, Depersonalization, Dissociation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecurity, Love, M/M, Post-Break Up, Self-Discovery, Self-Improvement, mentions of Big Bang (kpop), nah his friends are the best, they are the sweetest bunch of people ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadReisz/pseuds/MadReisz
Summary: He wonders how long he will continue to hide.
Relationships: Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	If You

_You’re fucking cruel._

Yoongi’s not sure how long he’s been staring at the words, maybe minutes, maybe hours, but it feels like he’s been locked here for months. Had he really written that? Why? He can’t imagine himself typing out such a baseless, viscous phrase. Who was that person? When he thinks about then, he can’t see that person. They’re hidden behind walls and barbs, and an impenetrable shaft of chaotic wind clangs around his memories. 

He wishes, looking at all the words before him, that he could untype them, unsend them. He wished it the moment they appeared and the moment he hit the little arrow that made the message slip away from his control. It’s too bad life doesn’t work like that - going back and being able to undo your shitty actions. 

The funniest part, though it’s not actually humorous at all, is that he was the cruel one for writing them. That was the problem, wasn’t it? It’s always been the problem. Somewhere along the line - he knows where now - an inability to believe that people cared about him developed and from this internalized belief sprang forth bountiful insecurities. These insecurities manifested in ways that made him feel out of control. It always felt like he was spiraling fast into nothingness. 

So he took those insecurities and he ruined everything. 

The roots of where the insecurities popped up were so deeply embedded that no matter how much he unearthed, how much he dug and dug until he was left bleeding and broken, it felt like he would never find the seed from which they grew. 

At the time, he felt that he would never be able to rid himself from all the weeds that grew on the solid surface of his mind. Everytime he pulled one out, two more sprang up - stronger, more pervasive than the last. More and more grew until it felt like an insurmountable task. And they cushioned him from what was underneath, made him feel comfortable. Provided softness to the sharpened rocks below. 

It was impossible - felt impossible - and sometimes, late at night when he’s finally going to sleep as the birds awaken, he feels a knot in his chest and wonders if it will ever really disappear, or will he have to live with it always? 

_____

It started over something that was retrospectively insignificant. Jimin had simply not spoken with him over the weekend and been out with friends. God, some of them had even been mutual friends. Yoongi feels silly, stupid, now. It wasn’t even that Jimin had been out with people, though that had added to the original thought. The idea flitted through his mind by Sunday evening: Jimin doesn’t care. 

He’d gone to sleep feeling bitter and woken up to the pain of no notifications. It’s not like Jimin was required to message him. They hadn’t talked about it or anything. Jimin was his own person, so was Yoongi. The weeds had taken over his mind, turning the hill of wildflowers into a carpet of shining -no, glaring- green leaves: poison ivy. 

He knew that by climbing that hill, he’d be punished. His skin had blemished with rash and his fingers had shook as he typed out: _So, are we not talking anymore?_

Why couldn’t he just say what he meant? It’s always like this. He could have said, _hey, I haven’t heard from you recently._ He should have said, _hey, I hope everything is still good between us._

His heart wanted him to say, _I’m worried you don’t want me in your life anymore because you’re not talking to me._

How do people do that? Just say what they mean? How are people so open and vulnerable and willing to allow people to love them? He doesn’t know yet, but he will, he’s getting there. 

The response had come quickly and the whole conversation took a turn for the worst. Jimin had ended with what felt like a terse _I won’t talk to you until tomorrow._

“He set a boundary. Why did you respond so strongly?” His therapist had asked him during their next session, and he’d nearly stammered out an exclamation. Of course, fuck, Jimin had set a fucking boundary. He hadn’t even known, hadn’t realized. He felt stupid now, having not been able to recognize this. What was he, a fucking child? In a way, yes, he thinks as the therapy sessions since then fill his head. 

To him it had been a rejection, an affirmation of his rampant insecurities, because Jimin was turning away from him, like he used to at the start of their arguing. But in the recent past Jimin had stuck around, and they’d made things better. It felt like a breakthrough at the time, like they were learning to communicate better. And the last one had come so quickly after their previous clash, it just felt like so much, too much to comprehend. The rash had exploded to cover his everything and scarred over his eyes until he was walking blindly through a sandstorm, feeling the winds and sand cut across his everywhere. 

He didn’t know what to do or where to go and every time he turned, it felt like he was back at square one, and the howl in his ears kept getting louder and louder, and he wondered if the storm would ever calm, stop, relent. His lungs felt full and empty and full and empty, but his breath kept threatening to sabotage him, to send him into fits. God, he’d been so close to hyperventilation, burning fucking paths into the ground as he paced and then sat and tried to distract himself. 

_Guys, I think I’m going to self-sabotage._

_Don’t,_ Namjoon had answered in the group chat, devoid of Jimin, a hole felt by everyone, then he’d messaged privately. 

Yoongi couldn’t think, couldn’t calm the storm, couldn’t stop spiraling out of fucking control. He was falling and flailing and he couldn’t find a safehold anywhere. So he acted on the only thought that was pervasive enough, flying by often enough that he took notice, and offered him an oasis: leave him. 

It whispered promises of relief from the sands; it guaranteed a break from the winds. Because if he left, if he ended it, then Jimin couldn’t abandon him. He could save himself from the pain. Jimin had basically rejected him anyway. Jimin was done with him, or would return to say that he was done with Yoongi later. 

It had turned out to be a mirage. 

The moment he blocked Jimin’s access to him, the moment he wrote and sent an email - no, the moment the thought was birthed - he knew he’d regret it. 

And here he was, regretting it. He closed the email and rubbed his eyes, why was he reading it again? 

____

_Do you think he’ll hate me for the email? Idk why I even sent it._

Jin, patient and loving Jin, responds kindly, _I don’t think so, but it depends on what you wrote._

____

It’s one week after sending the email, after blocking then unblocking - too late, a week too late. A day would have been too late. He never should have blocked Jimin from the start - first from all of his SNS accounts and later Jimin’s phone number for good measure. 

Yoongi stares at Jimin’s number and thinks about his therapist’s words, “I’d like for you to try reaching out one more time, see how it goes.” 

She’s gentle with him, because even though she knows there’s an email, she doesn’t know. He’d poured so much of his anger into that email, his insecurities framing the hurt into barbed words. There had been some soft words, kind words, caring words, but they hardly made up for the hurtful parts, nothing excused those parts. 

Hoseok rubs a hand along his shoulder blade, “do what you think you should do.” 

“What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore?” Yoongi asks, but he’s still hiding. There’s nothing he can do if that’s the case. 

He’s asking:  
How will I cope?  
How will my life go on?  
How will I adjust to the hole? 

Hobi smiles warmly, “if he wants to be with you, then I will be happy for you both. If he doesn’t, then I will be proud of him for doing what he believes in, and I will be here to support you too.”

So he texts Jimin, _I don’t actually know where to contact you that you might see it. I mean you might be choosing to ignore me and well that’s fair. I would like to talk/discuss your potential response to the email notwithstanding. Regardless of whether you want to or not, please reply to this or on literally any SNS. Just yes or no. If you don’t reply or answer, I understand and will take it to mean that you have made the choice for yourself to remove yourself and you would like me to no longer be a part of your life, which again I understand and is fair. I won’t try to contact you again beyond this._

He’s playing Mario Kart with Hoseok and feels his phone buzz next to his thigh a few hours later. A deep part of his brain knows that it’s the reply, but the surface is too thick. It’s not until Hobi’s character crosses the finish line first, and his own in 7th place, the NPCs beating him, that Yoongi finally picks up his phone. 

It’s like this: Jimin assures Yoongi that he loves him but is choosing to end things officially. It’s also like this: he’s plunged into a dark lake head first and he’s gone from hot to cold too fast and he feels disoriented and scared and lonely and he feels like he’s drowning. He cries, again. 

Hoseok places his controller down, mid-race, and folds Yoongi into his arms and Yoongi cries harder. 

“What did he say?” 

Yoongi hands him the phone and whispers wetly, “read it”

Hobi doesn’t say anything about the texts, can read a room, knows how to react in any situation, just squeezes a little tighter, “I’m sorry, Yoongs.” 

Yoongi wants to bury himself in Hoseok’s arms and never emerge again. He wonders how long he will continue to hide. 

____

He had tried to contact Jimin a few times after, but Jimin had said he’d be blocking Yoongi everywhere, so who knows if any of it went through. 

He feels the knot in his chest tighten if he thinks about it for too long. 

____

The cursor is flashing at him, encouraging him to start, to write anything. He wants to write to Jimin again, he’s always thinking about Jimin. Well, that’s not true, he’s not obsessed, but his thoughts turn to Jimin during the quiet hours between midnight and morn, when he’s got nothing else to focus on, or when he’s catatonic and staring at the screen in front of him during work. Jimin pops up, springs forth as little white flowers and slowly they take over the places where he’s been pulling back weeds. Pearlly orchids. 

_I’m sorry._ Sighing, he taps the backspace a few times until the page is empty once more. 

_I want to apologize._ No. 

_Please hear me-_ Tap. Tap. Tap. 

_I love you._ Another sigh. 

_I miss you._ Still, it’s not right. 

_Please let me show you..._ he pauses, it’s closer to what he wants to say. Why is he so afraid of just saying it? He knows, it’s partially because he’ll be vulnerable. He recognizes now why he looked down on vulnerability before. His therapist helped him get to a place of understanding the core problem, helped him uncover the seed from which the roots grew. It’s been two months now, they’ve uncovered a lot. 

  1. His fear of abandonment derives from the childhood experience of feeling rejected or not prioritized by his parents  

  2. His rejection of affection and vulnerability derives from the unstable environment he grew up in, in which showing any emotion (good or bad) could end in abuse: mental, physical, emotional, or verbal  

  3. Both of these come from a deep set feeling of worthlessness, brought forth by the same set of circumstances 



____

Two weeks after the original incident with Jimin, he texts their mutual friends a simple question: _what does it mean to be a good friend?_

He gets back a slew of answers, has to explain to Namjoon and Taehyung that he knows that it’s subjective, but what does it mean to them? 

Some people list qualities, some people list actions, but everyone mentions showing you care. He sits on it for a month and a half, before he mentions it to his therapist. 

She’s asking about a friend from his schooling days; a friend whose wedding he was supposed to attend as a guest, but hadn’t because there had been planning, and the press of socialization making him feel small. He’d felt unworthy looking at the clothes in his closet, like he wouldn’t fit in. Namjoon, the only one of his current friends that would be there, had said he wouldn’t be able to attend, and that had been the final added weight which sent him cascading into despair at the very thought of attending the wedding: alone, insignificant, and worthless. 

“They contacted me actually, over the holidays.”

His therapist smiles and it’s so warm and he feels so safe, “oh, that’s great! Did you two talk?”

Yoongi chuckles sardonically, still can’t believe the turn of events, “they’re actually getting a divorce.”

And then, like usual, she spins magic in her response, finding that positive in the negative. “I’m sorry for them, it must be really hard. They must have felt very comfortable with you, trusted you, to share something so personal.” 

She’s looking at him and he knows he should respond, so he nods a little. 

“Can you acknowledge then, that you possess good qualities as a friend?” 

There’s a blip and he’s inside himself, feeling smaller than himself. His therapist waits, probably studying his reactions, but he’s not all there because the weight of the question feels too heavy. His thoughts start going faster, more out of control and he knows that thinking about it isn’t something he can do right now, can’t admit it yet. 

So he deflects. “I don’t even know if I know what it means to be a good friend. I-I even asked my friends what they thought made a good friend.” 

She takes the change in stride, doesn’t push it, never pushes it. “What did your friends say?”

“A lot, but the consensus was that a good friend shows they care. I’m not sure I know if I show that I care.” 

He glances up to see her nodding, calm and understanding and safe. 

“Well, how did you respond to your friend when they told you about the divorce?” 

“I was empathetic.” 

“Good,” she smiles toward him, “your response shows you care, doesn’t it?”

He feels something crawling under his skin, can’t acknowledge her words, can’t respond for a moment. It feels unnatural, wrong even, to say that he cares. No, not that he cares, because he does care. It feels wrong to categorize his response as care. Like he’s incapable of showing it. 

“Caring is a two way street, right? Like in order for there to be care, both people have to be in on it or it’s...creepy.” He feels unsatisfied with his own statement, because he doesn’t mean it as a universal, but he’s referring specifically to friendships and relationships. 

She laughs, a lilting, sweet laugh, and he smiles as she responds, “I was going to say maybe unhealthy, in a codependent type of way.”

He feels relief, because maybe she understands what he meant to say.

“If it’s a two way road, and I don’t think people care about me,” because I’m worthless, his brain supplies, “even if they believe they do, then how can I believe that I’m capable of showing care?” 

There’s a pause and he can see her thinking, knows she wants to respond right away like always, to soothe his fears as usual, but she’s taken aback and sputters. Twice she tries to start a sentence, before slumping back into her chair, cogs turning hard, “I see what you’re saying.  
If you view it like that, it’s quite a paradox.” 

So she gives him homework: list all the things you do or say that show you care. 

____

Three days after the original incident with Jimin, Taehyung shows up with lunch. It’s not uncommon for Taehyung to visit unannounced, but he’s always busy jet-setting around the globe to photoshoot after photoshoot, so it’s rare. He sits at the kitchen table and opens the take away containers, while Yoongi grabs utensils. 

When they’re opposite of one another, both guarded because Yoongi wouldn’t even know Taehyung if it wasn’t for Jimin to begin with, Yoongi starts with casual. 

Eventually, they talk about what happened and Taehyung listens, lips bunched at one corner, his displeasure obvious. “But hyung, what’s to say you won’t do the same with me or any of your other friends? What if you and I get into an argument? Should I fear that you’ll block me too? Never talk to me again?” 

He swallows the noodles he’s been chewing and feels frozen. Do all his friends think this right now? That he’ll run? They have every right, it feels logical if he looks at it from their perspective. Is it too early to tell them that he’s learned his lesson? He hasn’t even heard back from Jimin, no response to the email. He probably won’t hear back.

“No, I won’t.” 

“Hyung, how do I know?”

“Just,” he shakes his head, feeling mixed up, “just tell me, remind me, that even though we’re arguing that you still care about me. Especially if you need a break from it, need to leave for the rest of the day and return the next day. I just- I need to know that everything is still okay between us.” 

Taehyung still looks less than enthused, “okay.” 

Alone in his bed, he unblocks Jimin from his backup accounts, but falls asleep before he can do much more. 

____

It doesn’t take long before being on SNS feels wrong and he deactivates all of his accounts. Then he talks to his friends less and less. Then he’s burrowing so deep inside himself that he wonders if he will stop feeling altogether. He doesn’t. 

His friends are persistent and they weather his storm of self-punishment, in which he withdraws and wishes he could disappear. Taehyung shares quotes with him from a novel they’re both reading. Namjoon talks about politics and philosophy and pretty boys (well, one boy, namely Seokjin). Jin shares music and movie recommendations and asks how he is, even though Yoongi doesn’t answer and redirects the conversation every time. Jungkook sends him pictures of chickens and tells Yoongi that he’s loved and he’s worthy. Hoseok, sweet Hobi, is dealing with his own problems and isn’t able to talk often, but when he does, he’s so warm and caring and safe. 

He loves them. They make him smile and laugh when sometimes it feels like there isn’t anything to smile or laugh about anymore. They check in on him when he’s too quiet, when he’s sitting cold inside himself. Most importantly, they stick with him. They make sure he knows that they love him. 

And it takes so long. It takes so long for him to start believing it, for his first response to not be self-hatred. And it still is, sometimes, most times, but one time (nearly 3 months after the original incident) Hoseok finally visits him after a long while. It’s a little awkward because they haven’t spoken recently and Hobi seems on edge, it feels like he’s still not ready to be open completely, so Yoongi voices it. 

“You can come over some other time Hope-ah, when you feel ready.” 

At first Yoongi thinks Hobi will stand from his place on the couch and leave, paler face drawn tight. Instead the dancer turns, looking an amalgamation of hurt and angry, then it melts. He seems tired and worn and how Yoongi felt for so long. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been very attentive lately, I will try my best to be a better friend.” 

“That’s not what I want,” Yoongi starts, then backtracks, “while I think it’d be great to hear from you more often, I’m trying to say that it’s okay for you to come to me when you want to, not when you think I need it. Because for once in my fucking life, I feel safe in that you’ll still be here later. For once it doesn’t feel like I’m waiting for you or our friendship to slip away.”

There are warm arms locked around his neck a moment later, “love you, hyung!” 

Laughing, he returns the hug, “love you too, Hope-ah.” 

____

He’s growing, he thinks. Sometimes he sees tiny white daisies, smiling daffodils, and little blue petals with suns for centers, forget-me-nots. 

____

The cursor is winking in and out of existence, flashing at him again, more insistent than before. Once more the page is blank and he feels silly, because he’s brimming. There’s so much he wants to say, to communicate and express, but he doesn’t know where to start or how to organize it all. Then there’s the sending part. Should he even send it once he does write it? Because he will write it, that’s a given. He needs to get it out in order to stop the festering and extract the poison. 

There are a few questions at this point:  


  1. Will Jimin want to hear any of it?  

  2. Does Yoongi have a right to be heard? (he thinks no still)  

  3. Is it considered harassment if he sends it? (he thinks it is) 



Then there are concerns:  


  1. He’ll be hurt if Jimin doesn’t want to hear from him (he’d understand)  

  2. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to get it all out, make it digestible  

  3. He doesn’t have expectations, but he does have wishes, he has wants 



Taking a breath, he closes his eyes and tries in vain to see the depths of himself. There’s nothing there, or rather there’s only black behind his lids, but he feels his heart inside himself and he knows he’s here. He feels okay. He can do this. Just stop hiding and say what he wants to say. Do it the right way. 

_I would like a chance to prove to you that I’m worth your time and effort._ Fuck, did he just…? Did he just assert that he’s got value? Does he believe it? Maybe, just a little, but it’s a seed and he wants to cultivate it and watch it grow into a field of flowers. 

He knows he's prepared for those days when the feeling of sinking or spinning out of control becomes so much it sends him spiraling. He’s got friends, he’s got people who care about him, and he’s got a therapist who will help him help himself out of the darkness.

_I would like to properly apologize for my actions and my hurtful words._

Because finally, finally he realizes that Jimin cared about him, cares for him. He understands that what he did must have hurt Jimin in ways that he’d only recently begun to fully comprehend. He wants to eat the words from his original email, _I don’t want to think too highly about the value of us to you, because right now it feels like you don’t value it at all._ He’d been too careless, thought too little of himself to think himself valuable to anyone else. 

Jimin had been hurt. He’d been the one to cause Jimin pain. He wishes he could take it all away, soothe every crack he made in Jimin’s heart. He wants to gather every shard and solder them back from where they fell. 

But more than that, Yoongi thinks back to the whole time they were together and how he had handled everything so defensively, always felt worthless. He wants to apologize for it all. To say he’s sorry he never let Jimin love him the way Jimin wanted to. To say sorry for always putting up walls and using barbed words. 

_I want-_ his finger brushes the T key in tiny circles. Is it okay for him to want things? His initial reaction is no, he shouldn’t want more than what is given to him, even if it’s nothing. But. But wanting isn’t the same as expecting, hoping for something doesn’t mean he thinks it will happen. So he continues, _I want to be in your life._

He’s about to delete the whole thing, but it’s already there and it’s true, so he simply modifies it: _I want to be in your life in whatever capacity feels right to you._

If he’s being honest, it’s still a bit of a cop out. That’s not what he wants. He wants Jimin close to him, wants to be able to show Jimin the person he is now and prove that he’s not the same. He’d settle for loose friends, acquaintances even, they don’t have to be like before. Maybe Jimin will be afraid - like Taehyung was - or maybe Jimin won’t mind so long as Yoongi is at arm’s length. They’d need boundaries, both of them. 

Maybe Jimin is too scarred from the past to let Yoongi in again, maybe he regrets that they ever started talking to begin with, maybe he disdains Yoongi. Those are all possibilities, but Yoongi erases the last two from his head, no, he won’t even allow them purchase. 

_I want to love you the way you deserved to be loved from the start._

Is it too much? Should he say more? Less? It’s only four lines, but each feels heavier than the last. After contemplating it for a bit longer, he saves the document, or tries to, but it requires a title. What do you even name something like this? He hadn’t known what to name the document he used to write the contents of the original email in either. He thinks this document deserves a real title, something better than idek. 

He’s tapping at the space bar and then deleting the empty characters, when his phone begins to ring. The gentle, honey singing of Jungkook spills across the desk. Jungkook had recorded himself singing to the karaoke version of Big Bang’s song “If You” on Yoongi’s phone. It had immediately been made into Yoongi’s ringtone, much to Jungkook’s chagrin, though later he’d worn a pretty blush that spoke otherwise. 

**If you, if you  
If it’s not too late  
Can’t we get back together?**

****

****

**If you, if you  
If you’re struggling like I am  
Can’t we make things a little easier?  
I should have treated you better when I had you **

The song cuts out and he breaks from a reverie and types out _If You_ in the title bar before saving the document. 

____

It’s only been a month since the incident and this is the second time Hoseok has offered. 

_If you want, I can send him something from you._

He does. He wants it so bad it hurts, but he still doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. Typing out a response, he continues working and a few moments later looks down at the buzz buzz. 

_Okay, hyung, I understand. If you ever want to, just tell me though. Luv u_

Yoongi lays his thumb over the little heart emoji and smiles. Maybe. 

____

_I would like a chance to prove to you that I’m worth your time and effort. I would like to properly apologize for my actions and my hurtful words. I want to be in your life in whatever capacity feels right to you. I want to love you the way you deserved to be loved from the start._

There it is, four lines. It simultaneously feels like too much and too little. He’s still not confident about sending it, there are still doubts. He still feels invasive. 

But.

But he’d tired of holding the page between his fingers, not wanting to move forward, onto the next chapter. He’s not sure if he’ll get to see all the characters in the next chapter, and it hurts, the knowing. Not that he knows the future, but the knowledge of the possible future, it hurts. It’s been hurting since everything happened, since he forced himself to the end, papercuts that shredded his heart. 

It’s time, he thinks, cursor hovering over the send button. It’s time to flip the page, to move on and hope for the best. Whether the best includes Jimin or not. Whether the best is the wondrous group of friends he’s cultivated in the last few months, stronger than ever before. Whatever the next chapter is, he thinks he’s ready for it. 

So he hits the button and sends the message, flips the page, and stares mesmerized at the new page, blank and beautiful and waiting for him to fill it with fields of wildflowers.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This fic is extremely personal and I honestly bore a piece of my soul here, so I’d like to sincerely thank you for reading the whole story. 
> 
> 2\. I’m open to writing a follow up of sorts, but I’d have to sit on it for a bit, because I myself have no idea what the future holds. ;)
> 
> 3\. Jungkook actually has sung a karaoke version of ["If You"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3ySrghB7f4) by Big Bang (Taehyung also sings!) . While I love Jungkook, and the [studio version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lECWjhAEly0) he sang as well, I can’t express to you how beautiful the original song is. If I were to make a playlist of all the songs I listened to while writing this, it would consist of only ["If You"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9hdorPqukU) by Big Bang. 10/10 would recommend 
> 
> 4\. I would like to give the biggest thanks ever to my group of friends who really went out of their way to stick with me when I withdrew and distanced myself. They are my safe space and I’m still not the best at expressing myself, but I’m getting better. I hope they can tell and feel how much I love and appreciate them through the bits and pieces of this story that their essence inhabits. I know they’re going to ask who is who, but the problem is that I didn’t designate any one character to be you, so please stop looking. You mean the world to me by the way. <3
> 
> 5\. To the person whom this fic is dedicated, I love you always. I wish nothing but the best for you and your family. 
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MadReisz7)


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